


Wanna touch?

by therickykitty



Series: The Wolf of Skyhold [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Desya has some real thirst, M/M, very naughty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3675705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therickykitty/pseuds/therickykitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desya Lavellan now understands what the thirst is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanna touch?

Desya Lavellan stood rooted to the spot. He could barely fathom what he was looking at, and the heat that slowly pooled in his stomach and spread like pinpricks across his skin to his neck made him wary. More than wary, really. Desya had never felt such a strong pull of desire before, not even with the other hunters back when he was with his clan.

Here he was, in the Commander’s doorway and about to ask his opinion on a mission Leliana had informed him of at the War Table, and he had caught the man stripping out of his armor and bare chested in front of him. Samson simply arched a brow and gestured for the younger elf to come in, and chuckled at the rather endearing display in front of him. Oh, he knew just how smitten the boy looked, and the Wolf of Skyhold enjoyed teasing and flirting with him whenever the moment struck.

But this? This was simply too good to be true.

“Inquisitor? Did you need me for something? Or did you come to enjoy the show?” Samson chuckled, before putting his arms back and flexing in a sardonic display.

The Dalish man coughed and felt his bronze skin flush even darker. His emerald eyes darted about and instead tried to focus on the wall behind the old wolf. “I-I…I just wanted your…advice! Leliana…um….brought this information…to…to my attention.”

Desya mechanically moved his limbs until he was near the Commander’s desk and shakily handed him the papers. Samson decided to play along with his ignorance of the young elf’s wandering eyes and simply flipped through the pages and pretended to read the Spymaster’s findings. He could feel the elf’s roaming gaze slide surreptitiously over his body and rest squarely on his rather impressively furry pectorals. The old wolf cleared his throat loud enough to startle the elf out of his reverie and fixed him with an inquisitive look.

“Something else I can help you with, Inquisitor Lavellan?”

“I-I was…no…nothing, I swear. Well….now….I should…I should go…” Desya stuttered and swiveled around awkwardly.

“Did you want to touch it?”

Desya froze on the spot, and Samson would ingrain that look for the rest of his life. Maker, he’d frame it in gold and place it over every bloody mantle in the whole of Skyhold. The adorable shock and flushed, open-mouthed gape did nothing to stoke Samson’s want of the boy.

“I…I…Commander, you know-”

“I know you elves don’t grown any hair. Maker knows I’ve bedded a few to know, but I bet you’ve never seen a man up close like this. A pelt of fur, I bet I look just like the moniker you lot gave me,” Samson leered before sliding a hand over his chest.

The boy didn’t look like he could decide if he wanted to run or move forward, and it reminded the older Commander of prey. Minutes rolled by with the elf unable to move forward or back, which prompted Samson to take the initiative and come straight before him, barely inches between the two.

Desya swore he could feel his heart pounding in his ears, and he knew he was breathing louder than intended. In all his life, he’d never seen a human man this furry, or even this closely. He shakily reached a palm out and left it hovering over the man’s chest, gazing up at his face as if to ask for permission. Samson’s nostrils flared as he reached to grip the elf’s hand tenderly and placed it on his chest. 

The Commander soaked up the shorter man’s soft gasp and growled low in his throat as nimble fingers gently rubbed and scratched through the thick forest over his left pectoral. Samson slid his fingers through the elf’s tresses and cupped the back of his head, his heart seizing when soft, large eyes looked up to meet him.

The tension was thick and hovered in the air, a miasma that dissipated instantly the second Josephine barged into the room. Desya Lavellan sprinted through the door and all the way back to his quarters with an urgency he never thought he could have possessed, with the old wolf’s good-natured cackle following him the entire journey.

**Author's Note:**

> Samson can be such an ass.


End file.
